


From Hoboken to Spokane

by CatalpaWaltz



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Gen, mcu crossover, super-soldier!Illya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 23:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatalpaWaltz/pseuds/CatalpaWaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who's strong and brave, here to save the American way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Hoboken to Spokane

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolutely 100% not meant to be taken seriously. Nobody look at me. 
> 
> Inspired by the following prompt:http://kinkfromuncle.dreamwidth.org/640.html?thread=334720#cmt334720

From Hoboken to Spokane 

The first clue comes when Gaby gets a hold of some photos from the deepest depths of Illya's file. Napoleon walks in on her cooing over a picture of what is apparently an eleven year-old Illya in swim trunks, standing in front of an ocean vista, grinning toothily at the camera. The grown-up version of the same is sitting in an armchair in the corner, nose firmly buried in a book, pointedly ignoring the proceedings. 

Napoleon leans over Gaby's shoulder to peer at the picture. 

"Wow, Peril. You sure sprouted, didn't you?" 

Illya only grunts in acknowledgement. 

The boy in the picture is _tiny_ , giving no indication that he would grow into the mass of pent-up power and lethality that sits hunched over across from them. It's curious, but so many things about his partner are similarly incongruous that Napoleon has no problem simply stashing the information away until it might become useful, and leaving it at that. 

\-------------

The second clue comes in the wake of a mission gone wrong. 

"Well Mr. Kuryakin," says the doctor from where he stands at the side of Illya's hospital bed, "it was a close call, but it looks like you'll be alright. We'll just give you a day or so here to rest up, and then we can talk about clearing you for duty." He's on his way out the door when his words actually register with Napoleon, who's sitting in a damnably uncomfortable chair on the opposite wall. 

"Excuse me, 'a day or so?' I don't know if you've noticed, but my partner just had a hole blown through his shoulder, and you're going to kick him out of here after one day?" 

Illya tries to cut in, to shut Napoleon up, but the doctor speaks first. 

"Well, obviously we'll play things by ear, but given Mr. Kuryakin's enhanced rate of recovery it probably won't take much longer than that before he should start to regain mobility." 

The word almost escapes his notice in the haze of frayed nerves and exhaustion and confusion that's plagued him since they finally came to the end of this latest assignment from hell. But there's a reason why Napoleon is the very best at what he does, and he didn't get to be that way by having a less-than-exceptional mind. 

" _Enhanced_?"

The doctor opens his mouth to respond, but before he can do so they're all distracted by the sound of the door being flung open, the furious voice that resounds through the room. 

"Where is he?!" shouts Gaby, who looks particularly fierce with the stitches closing up the cut over her eye. "Where is he, I'm gonna kill him!" 

What follows is an altogether predictable litany of "don't ever do that to me again"s and "you had us worried sick"s that completely derail Napoleon's line of questioning. He lets it go. 

Which in retrospect was probably a mistake. 

\-------------

The cat doesn't actually make it out of the bag until a year later, and another botched mission. 

A few rogue elements out of Moscow Central have been going on a bit of what Napoleon likes to call a "bad guy bender"; a few dozen dead bodies, empty weapons caches, some kidnapped scientists, the works. Though they have no apparent connections to anything bigger, Waverly is keen to see them brought down before they can get properly organized, so they're sent on the hunt. 

To everyone's surprise, however, their targets come to them. And they get Illya. 

Panic threatens to set in when Napoleon and Gaby think what they might want him for; Illya's been characteristically cagey about it, but they know there's been a great deal of tension between their partner and his ostensible bosses in the KGB, some very dangerous accusations being leveled at him that only Waverly's interventions have kept at bay. It seems only reasonable that a handful of hardline fanatics should want to have a go at someone with such questionable loyalties. So they waste no time. 

They follow the kidnappers' bloody trail to a secret installation in the Serbian woods. They take the bait when Napoleon more or less offers himself up as a captive (suitably convinced by his breaking the arms of two of their goons and repeatedly crying "you'll never take me alive!" that he is not in fact playing them like a pack of poorly-tuned fiddles.) He's led straight to the dank, echoey underground lab where the captured scientists have been put to work, and there's Illya, strapped to what looks like an operating table turned upright and looking more than a little bored. 

And then, helpfully, Solo's host starts monologuing. 

He's not really paying attention (having sat through one too many of these sorts of soliloquies) until the man says something odd. 

"We will unlock the secret within your partner's blood! And then we will craft a formula even more potent than Erskine's, build a new breed of man so powerful that even a nuclear winter will feel no worse than a late spring snow!" 

Napoleon blinks, holds up a hand. 

"I'm gonna stop you right there," he says, and the villain is so surprised by the interruption that he actually does go quiet. 

"Peril," says Napoleon evenly, turning to his partner. "Is he saying what I think he's saying?" 

Illya rolls his eyes. 

"Not now, if you please." 

"Alright," says Napoleon, pulling the knife concealed within his jacket just as the lights cut out, right on schedule. "But we will be having words about this later." 

\------------

Actually completing their original mission takes almost no time at all. The ex-KGB aren't all so easy to bring down, but since it seemed to matter so much to them that Illya be kept at his physical best throughout his ordeal he's perfectly able and willing to do most of the dirty work. 

They're waiting for Waverly's promised back-up when Napoleon finally turns on his partner, ready for answers. 

"You want to explain what that was all about back there?" 

"Er, just a big misunderstanding?" Illya offers. Napoleon narrows his eyes. 

"Nice try. But no." 

Gaby comes over from where they've set up the radio, finished relaying all the details to the U.N.C.L.E. dispatcher. 

"We're your partners, Illya," she says, voice pitched low and soothing. "And it seems like it's something we need to know." 

He frowns. 

"Fine. But first," he points a warning finger in Napoleon's direction, "you must promise not to laugh."


End file.
